There were, Duo knew, a lot of damn stars in space. They were huge burning masses of gas that gave off enough light as to be seen billions of miles away
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Had Mal been on the ship, Wash would have been forced to ignore the distress beacon, but he was only going at 35 clicks, which might as well have been entirely stationary, and he had his dinosaurs out. What else was there to do when Mal, Jayne, and his wife were out shooting people and getting money they would only lose? As far as he was concerned, playing with his dinosaurs made him cooler than the rest of them
( ... )
"Oh, man," Duo sighed. "You're assuming I've got any kinda accurate idea of how long I've been floating around out here. Um," he said, thinking, hard.
"...I got no clue. I think the support in my suit's been on for like....two hours? Or....five? So...I mean, but the ship's busted. Oh, man, I totally broke my ship..."
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"....God?" he asked.
Yeah, that life support system, maybe not lasting as long as he'd thought.
After a moment, feeling a little ridiculous, he raised his hand and waved.
"Um, can you see me waving? Because I'm doing it as hard as I can."
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He did a quick sweep of the shuttle and noticed that his life support was, indeed, down. And he was at half-power.
"You must be new to the black," Wash said with a good-natured laugh. "How long has your life support been down?"
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"...I got no clue. I think the support in my suit's been on for like....two hours? Or....five? So...I mean, but the ship's busted. Oh, man, I totally broke my ship..."
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